Sidewinder Chronicles
by Markus Warfield
Summary: Finally updated. First chapter up. Rated for language so far.
1. Prologue

It was winter, but then again, on this section of the planet, it was always winter. Snow and ice covered the small region year round, with the temperature always ranging from about zero to twenty degrees. Called Sidewinder by the troops of the USMC, the United States Marine Corps, it was currently inhabited by three different sets of troops. After the wars on the Covenant and the Flood had concluded, there had been some dissention on how to split up the planets that had been vacated with their elimination. And with the death of the last of the generals, General Kellenberg, the Colonels that were behind him in command were left arguing as to who the next military leader would be. Although President Henley named his closest friend Colonel Torres as general of the Corps, the rest of the colonels would not accept this, and soon named them general as well. Recruiting their own majors and captains, all four generals had successfully succeeded in achieving an impressive arsenal.  
  
However, after the incredibly violent and vicious battle at the High Rise, which saw over a hundred and fifty deaths, including the assassination of Colonel Evers, the remaining troops all had to split their alliances once more. About a half of them eventually enlisted under Colonel Torres, with the rest of the troops splitting themselves between Colonels Hark and Redding. The battles of High Rise and Battle Creek had practically decimated half of the planet, with Sidewinder and Blood Gulch left unclaimed. However, with more than three quarters of the troops that remained fighting it out at Blood Gulch, a battle for Sidewinder is put on hold, with only a handful of troops on each side to hold down fort. And with the battle on hold, the troops are starting to get restless... 


	2. Annoying Privates

It was the same as always on this desolate planet. Cold. Sunny as hell, yet freezing. It was somewhat of an anomaly really. How can there be so much sun, but the snow that caked the landscape never seemed to go away. And no one had ever really seen it snow, at least no one at the Black Base had. The Black Base had been called that way because all of Colonel Hark's men had worn black uniforms. Black pants, black shirt, black hats and helmets...it was a nice way to distinguish themselves from the rest of the "clans" as they were being referred to nowadays. Hark's men wore black, Redding's men wore white, and Torres' men wore the old standard blue that the marines had worn during the wars with the covenant and flood.  
  
The base itself was embedded in the side of a big rock formation, which had circled around nearly the whole area. It seemed as if Hark was stuck with the worst base on the planet, at least, that's what his men had thought anyways. No one had really liked Hark, not even the other Colonels. So they thought that maybe they had gotten the worst base on the planet for that reason, but then again, no one in the Black Base had ever seen any other of the bases, considering that each of them were behind and to either the left or the right. This position strategically also put them in an extremely bad spot to try to ward off surprise attacks, since they couldn't see them and since they were given orders not to leave the base.  
  
So that was the way things went around here for the Black Base. There were four troops, with Sgt. Klett being in charge of three privates. Sgt. Klett was a wide-bodied man, powerful and intimidating. He also was known to have a very short temper, which often resulted in him using the other privates for target practice at his own leisure. He spent most of his time either sleeping or what the privates presumed, jacking off in the kitchen. How else could they explain the half hour trips and rolls of missing toilet paper from the bathroom? But anyways, Klett was asleep now, leaving the three privates to sit out near the front and keep watch, just in case after two months of waiting, a surprise attack was to happen at this moment. The privates didn't care though, it was the most fun they had all day ever since Klett had gotten a mysterious white glue matter all over the deck of cards. So right now, the three were sitting out near the front, or standing actually, weapons in hand just in case of ambush.  
  
"Hey.do you guys ever think about why we're fighting this war?" The shortest of the group asked, a white guy with brown hair that peeked from underneath his black cap. The nametag on his shirt read, "Pvt. Renner" in white lettering.  
  
A chubby capless fellow looked at him for a few moments, the sun gleaming off of his bald head and practically blinding Renner. Renner used his gun to shield the gleam.  
  
"I think about it all the time." The chubby guy, name of Pvt. Cahill, started up. "I mean, there are so many more things that we could be doing right now. Trekking along the beautiful mountains of the Mars, swimming in the heavenly oceans of Sagume Beach. Right now, I could be exploring the jungles of old Brasilia even back on Earth. I could be starting up a family right now, preferably living."  
  
"Holy crap, if I wanted a fag answer, I just could have asked Wolchevzsky over there." Wolchevzsky was the other private, who raised his head at the sound of his name. It was the only thing he understood, as Wolchevzsky was directly from Germany and didn't speak or apparently understand a word of English. Strike that, he did understand one word it seemed.  
  
"Hamburgers?" Wolchevzsky replied as usual.  
  
"It's sad when I like his answer better than yours." Renner retorted, looking back towards Cahill. "What I meant my grandiosely obese confidant is why the hell are humans fighting humans? We kicked the Covenant's asses, the wars should have been over and all should be fine. Instead, President Pussy hasn't got any backbone, or brains, and now the other idiots are fighting over whom the main man in our military really is. So against our will basically, we are given a choice to go to a side, fight against our own men, just so we can claim lands on an alien planet that serves no real purpose for us anyways. It's fucking insane, don't you think?"  
  
Cahill looked up at the sky for a moment, as if pondering all of what Renner had just said. Finally, when he thought of a response, he looked back down to Renner, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
"Then why not just make them all generals?" Cahill replied.  
  
Renner just sighed, shaking his head. "I think you've just missed the whole point of our conversation, congratulations as usual Cahill, you're just tops on the fucking intellectual scales aren't you? I don't give a shit who the leader is, and they shouldn't either. The point I'm trying to make is, if we're not fighting anyone, then who the hell cares who's in charge?"  
  
Wolchevzsky starts clapping out of nowhere, laughing a little bit and grinning from ear to ear. Cahill and Renner just stare blankly at him, but he keeps on laughing before finally stopping short of a conniption.  
  
"Wenn eine Ente aus Holz gemacht ist, dann wie es kommt, schnattert?" The German said with a questioning look on his face now.  
  
"What'd he say?" Cahill asked Renner.  
  
Renner, who was now getting completely annoyed by the looks of things, just turned his head towards his fellow private.  
  
"Cahill, remember when you asked me what he said thirty minutes ago, and I said that I didn't speak German?"  
  
Cahill nodded his head.  
  
"Well, times haven't really changed much have they. You don't see an English to German dictionary around here, do you? Unless someone has carved it out of wood in the past half hour, I don't think there's one lying about. So stop fucking asking me what he's saying!"  
  
Renner's voice echoed loudly over the hills of ice, bringing about a small period of silence amongst the small group. Renner turned his back to the others, staring out into the sunny valley of frozen tundra that lay below them. Cahill had taken a seat on the cold ground near the opening of the base, his feet dangling over the ten-foot drop to the valley floor. Wolchevzsky was busy in the corner, singing a nice little tune that was no doubt native to his country. After about a few more moments of pure silence, Cahill was the first one to speak up.  
  
"You know, I wonder if the people in the other bases are doing the same things that we're doing."  
  
"They're probably drinking and playing cards in fancy heated bases. I mean no one has it as bad as we do." Renner said, digging around in his breast pocket and pulling out an empty pack of cigarettes. He threw them down to the ground below in disgust and continued to watch the horizon, sort of wondering the same things that Cahill had. 


End file.
